


Best of Both Worlds

by Ohfrickfanfic



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Aftercare by Tyler, Blood, Blood licking, Bloodplay, Choking, Cunnilingus, Extremely Rough Sex, F/M, Knifeplay, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, intense choking, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14496747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohfrickfanfic/pseuds/Ohfrickfanfic
Summary: As much as you hate what Blurry does to Tyler mentally, you thoroughly enjoy what Blurry does to you sexually.





	Best of Both Worlds

Working on the new album is stressing Tyler out more than he lets on, but you know. You know because every now and again when you look over to the piano, watching him work, his dark brown eyes flicker to a vibrant red. You know exactly what that means; Tyler’s insecurities about his work are getting the best of him again and Blurry is trying to take over. But you can’t help the feeling beginning to pool in your lower abdomen because as much as you hate what Blurry does to Tyler mentally, you thoroughly enjoy what Blurry does to you sexually.

You knew when you married Tyler that ‘in sickness and health, til death do us part’ also included dealing with Tyler’s demons, especially Blurry. Most of your encounters with Blurry had consisted of ignoring the demon manifested of negative thoughts and insecurities while simultaneously showering Tyler — who you knew was still in there somewhere — with love and positivity until he was strong enough to come back.

It wasn’t until after you were married that you started having sex with the demon. The first time it happened was completely unintentional; you and Tyler had had a particularly stressful day and thought sex would help take your minds off things for a bit. As it turned out that didn’t help at all your mind was a million miles away, lost in your problems and unable to focus on the task at hand: climax. Tyler, due to no fault of his own, was unable to make you cum. That, mixed with the days earlier events still weighing on his mind made his insecurities boil over. While still inside of you his eyes flashed to red, and for the first time, you found yourself having sex with Blurry, not Tyler.

Tyler was gentle, sweet, caring, compassionate and wouldn’t hurt a fly. In fact, on more than one occasion Tyler had you gently escort an intruding bug out of the house on a sheet of paper or inside a cup because as much as he feared the insects, he didn’t want them harmed. These traits crossed over into the bedroom as well. Sex with Tyler was amazing and went far beyond the realm of pleasure. The two of you practically melted into one being with the way your souls connected when Tyler was inside of you. His tender touches and passionate kisses filled your senses and awoke every nerve ending in your body. You definitely weren’t complaining by any means, but sometimes you wished he would be a little rougher with you. You had expressed this to Tyler on a few occasions but he insisted he didn’t want to hurt you.  

Blurry was everything Tyler wasn’t: rough, harsh, cruel, and degrading, and so was the sex with him, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy yourself that first time with Blurry. Tyler apologized profusely whenever he saw the black handprints on your neck, mascara streaked cheeks, and your lips, bitten raw and bloody. You assured him that it was ok — that you were ok — and admitted you enjoyed it.

“I know you’ve expressed wanting rougher sex in the past, but that looks like it was _really_ rough — too rough,” Tyler winced as he wiped black handprints from your neck, revealing identical bruised ones underneath. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay if you’re okay?” you pried, wondering how Tyler felt about the situation.

“Well, I don’t like seeing you hurt but... but if this is what you want and I can’t give that to y —”

“Tyler, stop it. It's not like that — don’t even think of it like that. Blurry is a part of you,” you said placing your hand on Tyler’s shoulder as he tended to you. “Think of it as me getting to experience the best of both worlds. At least it’s good to know that monster’s good for something,” you joked.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” Tyler cracked a smile. “Just promise me if it happens again and it gets to be too much, you’ll cry out for me. I swear I’ll fight my way back to protect you.”

“Promise.” you agreed. “Safeword: Tyler”

You both laughed as Tyler pulled you in for a hug that night.

***********************

Most people are probably in bed at this ungodly hour but here you are you sitting curled up on your favorite spot on the couch, reading a book as you keep a close eye on Tyler, who refuses to go to bed until he’s perfected this one particular part he’s been struggling with.

“That sounded great, babe,” you offer, the echo of the last note dissipating in the air.

“No, it sounds like every other piano riff in existence...” Tyler starts. “ _There’s nothing special_ about it, _”_ Blurry’s deep menacing voice cuts through briefly before fading back to Tyler’s.

“Tyler, honey, please, let’s just go to bed. You can work on it more tomorrow. You’re stressing yourself out.”

“No. You can go to bed if you want. I’m fine.”

Tyler rolls his cramped neck; the combination of sitting in front of the piano for hours and the building stress and tension have worked knots into the musician’s muscles. He slowly opens and closes his tired, calloused hands, giving his fingers a slight wiggle before returning them to the piano’s keys and begins again.

Returning your eyes to the pages of your book, you shift to get more comfortable as ‘perfect -to -you’ melodies fill the air. You smooth out the bunches your movements have made in your nightie, your mind drifting back to the night Tyler had bought it for you. You had been surprised he picked out something so basic and simple: A plain, cream, mid-thigh length nightie, with the tiniest of bows where the slinky straps attached to the fabric right above your breasts. Tyler insisted, saying, “Most girls wear sexy lingerie with fancy straps, ties, and lace to make themselves look beautiful, but you’re so beautiful already. I know you can make this simple nightie look sexy. Plus, it looks a lot easier to get off of you,” he finished with a laugh. Suddenly the loud clamorous sound of multiple piano keys being smashed at once pulls you from your thoughts.

“T-Tyler?” you question, knowing full well he would never treat his instruments in such a way. You rise from your spot on the couch. “Tyler?” you question again, making your way over to the piano but you can already see the back of his black stained neck and hands from where he’s perched on the piano bench, facing away from you. “Tyler? Honey?” you try again to reach your husband. As much as you enjoy sex with Blurry, you would never intentionally let Blurry takeover, and still always try your best to bring Tyler back. “Tyler, I-I really liked that last one. It-it sounded really good... um... different even.” you coax, placing an unsteady hand on Blurry’s shoulder. “I mean it, Tyler. The fans are gonna —”

 _“Silence!”_ Blurry interrupts, blindly swatting backward; the knuckles of his open left hand striking your lip.

“Owww!” you wince and suck in air between your teeth. Bringing your hand to your lip, you dab at the wet warmth on the surface with your middle finger and pull it back to look at it; sure enough, it’s bleeding. You reach over Blurry for the box of tissues Tyler keeps on his piano when suddenly Blurry’s blood-streaked hand shoots up and grabs you by the wrist, stopping you.

 _“I always did have a thing for blood,”_ his demonic voice bellows as he turns to you, bringing his hand — still clamped around your wrist — to his mouth. Locking his crimson eyes to yours, his head moves back and forth in a jerky — almost mechanical like fashion as his tongue zigzags through the valleys between his knuckles, collecting your blood as he goes. A moan slips from your mouth and his free hand quickly wraps around your throat as he stands, backing you up into the adjoined kitchen. With his hand still firmly wrapped around your neck, he shoves you roughly against the space of blank wall at the end of the countertops.

You claw at his grasp, trying to loosen his grip enough for you to speak. “Leave Tyler al —”

 _“I said SILENCE!”_ he forces out harshly as you feel his fingers slowly tighten around your throat, one... by... one. Yanking you forward by the column of flesh, he sucks your injured lip into his mouth, drawing more blood from the cut, and then pushes his tongue into your mouth. A copper tang lingers on his tongue as it dances wildly in your mouth. You can’t help the sounds that escape your lips; your moans acting as a white flag as you completely surrender yourself to Blurry, deepening the kiss. _“Huh huh ha ha,”_ his evil laughs rings in your ears. _“There’s my little slut. I knew you’d forget about that pathetic husband of yours and give in sooner or later. I don’t know what you see in —”_

You can’t stand to hear all the vile things Blurry insists on spewing about Tyler, so you opt to drown him out, turning your focus to his harsh kisses on your bruising lip, the feeling of his calloused hand roaming up your nightie between your thighs, the drumming of your pulse against the pads of his fingers and the way it whooshes in your ears. You pay close attention to the sounds of exchanging breaths and smacking lips as Blurry devours every shallow, raspy, moan and gasp you manage to produce.  

Blurry abruptly pulls his hungry lips from yours and releases your throat, reaching to open the drawer to your right. The sudden influx of air to your oxygen-starved lungs burns like fire, but the feeling quickly dissipates when suddenly you feel cool metal contact your skin. causing you to exhale in a breathy moan.

“You’re not gonna go crying out for Tyler now, are you, Dollface?” Blurry’s low-pitched voice taunts as he presses the serrated blade of a large steak knife to your throat. You shake your head ‘no’, daring the blade to slice your skin as heat pools in your core. You know you would never be able to get Tyler to agree to knifeplay, but you’ve always been intrigued by the idea of it.

Blurry places the handle of the knife in his mouth, holding it in place with his teeth and quickly pulls you from the wall, forcing your hands behind your back. Taking hold of both your wrists in one hand. he removes the knife from his mouth with the other and returns it to your throat.

 _“Good. Bedroom. Walk,”_ he orders.

He roughly guides you to the bedroom, but as he spins you around and throws you onto the bed, the teeth of the knife catch in your flesh, nicking you. Your blood quickly beads to the surface, and in an instant Blurry is on you like a blood-starved vampire. Dropping the knife to the mattress and straddling your hips, he pins your hands by the sides of your head and runs his tongue up the river of red trickling down your neck to the cut. Even though you know it’s something you were always curious to try, you surprise yourself with how needily you begin to writhe when Blurry pauses to suck more blood from the source.

 _“Mmmm desperate, are we?”_ he asks with blood-stained lips, grinding against you.

“Blurry, please,” you beg, raising your hips up to meet his.

Blurry retrieves the knife, his eyes glued to yours as he licks the remnants of your blood from the blade. He slides the knife under the dainty strap of your nightie, scraping it against your skin, and begins to pull up.

“Don’t! It’s Tyler’s favorite!” you plead.

 _“Don’t! It's Tyler's favorite.”_ Blurry mocks with a demonic chuckle as he slices through the thin strap, and then repeats the action on the opposite side. He doesn’t even bother removing the garment, instead pulling the top of the silky fabric down off your breasts and pushing the bottom up over your thighs, bunching it around your middle. A smug grin spreads across his ensanguined lips when he realizes your pantiless.

 _“Mmm, fuck!”_ he drops the knife to the bed again, immediately shedding his clothes and snatches up your legs, smearing black paint all over them. With his hands behind your knees, he forces your legs back, promptly entering you. Without even giving you time to adjust, he begins pounding into you with a quick and vigorous rhythm _. “So fucking wet already! Admit it, you wanted this. You’ve been watching Ty stress all night, silently hoping I’d make an appearance, haven’t you?”_

“Yes Blurry! Please just fuck me… fuck me… harder,” you chant in time with is his trusts.

Blurry drops one of your legs from his grasp and grabs the knife. Slowing his hips to painfully languid and shallow thrusts, he places the tip of the knife under your chin, lifting your head up as he leans in closer.

 _“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Dollface.”_ he quips, slamming back into you and reestablishing his speed and vigor. He teases the blade lightly down from your chin and over the hollow of your throat, adding slightly more pressure — enough to scratch but not cut you — as he trails it over your chest and down your stomach, finally pausing at your hip.

He flicks his eyes to yours and watches momentarily as their expression flutters somewhere between lust and fear while he presses the knife firmly against your flesh before harshly dragging the blade across your left hipbone. A cocktail of winces and moans fall from your lips as you raise your hips off the bed, meeting Blurry’s thrusts, the sting of the slash somehow intensifying your pleasure. Blurry tosses the knife down to his right and runs his hand through the ruby red blood seeping from your hip, spreading it around. Both his hands navigate up your body as he connects your mouths in a heated kiss, littering your body and tattered nightie with a combination of black paint and blood-soiled handprints in his wake. Upon reaching your neck, he grabs it tightly, choking you as the other quickly glides back down your body to your hip. With his palm pressed firmly over the wound, causing more blood to pool out, he holds you down while he fucks you.

Due to Blurry’s crushing hold on your throat cutting off your oxygen and blood flow, your face and lips grow tingly. Your vision begins to narrow to pinpoints and you start to feel like you’re flying as your impending orgasm begins to build warmth in your abdomen. And then just as you’re about to give in and cry out for Tyler because you're sure you're about to lose consciousness, Blurry releases your throat. The sudden rush of oxygen and blood flow back to your deprived body that’s already been teetering on the edge of release sends you into the most intense series of orgasmic waves you’ve ever experienced.

Your body quakes and shakes as you come down from the high. Your mind is still so cloudy and confused in a pleasure-induced stupor that you don’t even remember Blurry cumming. He must have because you can feel it leaking from your entrance and he’s already crashed, half asleep next to you. Sleep sounds great right about now. You’re not even sure if your legs are capable of standing anyways, so you opt for sleep as well, not even bothering to get cleaned up.

*************************

In the morning, Tyler awakes with a groan and a stretch, and groggily makes his way to the bathroom, his eyes still heavily lidded with sleep. He smacks his lips and tongue in an attempt to moisten his sleep-dried mouth but finds himself slightly alarmed at the metallic taste that accompanies his usual morning breath. Sleepily, he pushes his concerns to the back of his mind as he enters the bathroom.

With his eyes still mostly closed, he turns on the faucet and begins to fill his cupped hands with water. Just as he brings the water up to his face his eyes begin to rouse, and the rust-colored water he’s cradling comes into focus. Terrified, he quickly empties the water from his hands and bends down staring intently at the running water like perhaps he’s in some sort of horror movie.

Nope definitely not coming from the spout.

He shakes the nonsense thought from his head and turns his attention back to his hands, turning them over, his eyes meeting with the remnants of dried blood. Confused, he looks up, searching his brain for answers only to be met with his blood-stained reflection in the mirror: Crimson messily surrounds his mouth like smeared clown makeup. He looks down, surveying his body and realizes he naked. He doesn’t remember getting undressed, and come to think of it, he doesn’t remember going to bed either. In fact, the last thing he remembers is being at the piano...and suddenly it hits him…

Blurry.

He rushes back to the bedroom to check on you, panicked by the sight before him: your motionless body with eyes closed, caked in dried blood, and a knife to your right. In an instant, Tyler is by your side and you’re stirred awake by the feeling of two fingers palpitating at your neck. You open your eyes to Tyler’s fear-filled brown ones just inches from yours.

“Oh, thank God you’re alright,” he says with a relieved sigh, whisking you into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, babydoll; so sorry he did this to you.” You hear his voice crack as he buries his head into your neck.

“Tyler I’m fine, I —”

“Fine? Fine?! Don’t try to justify this. This is not fine,” he says, running his thumb over your swollen, dried blood encrusted lip. “This,” his says, tilting your neck and exposing the small cut, “this is not fine.” He reaches for the knife next to you, picking it up. “Knives? Knives hurting my beautiful wife are not fine. And this,” he says, plucking at the tattered fabric around your waist, “you... everything... you’re a mess!” he speaks frantically.

“For the record, I told him NOT to cut _the nightie,”_ you say light-heartedly, trying to defuse his concern and suggest that you had consented to Blurry cutting _you_.

“I don’t give a shit about the nightie!” he curses, his rage causing his eyes to flicker a cherry red.

“Tyler! — Tyler, your eyes baby, your eyes,” you warn. “Calm down, baby. Really, I’m okay. Umm how do I put this...?”

“What? What is it, baby?”

“Blurry didn’t do _anything_ I didn’t want him to do,” you admit.

His rage turns to confusion but he begins to relax a little, his eyes stabilizing to a warm brown before he speaks again. “Y-you wanted this?” he questions. “I thought the first time was too much with him choking you, but you swore you were into it so I let it go, but knives? Really? You liked that?”

“What can I say? You married a freak, baby,” you chuckle. “I don’t know, I’ve always been intrigued by the idea, so when Blurry pulled out a knife I wasn’t about to stop him and I’m glad I didn’t. It was such an adrenaline rush.”

“You really are a freak,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, at least let me get you cleaned up.”

Tyler pulls you to your feet and helps you peel off the torn nightie that’s adhered to you with dried blood and cum, then guides you by the small of your back to the bathroom. Inside the bathroom, Tyler grabs a washcloth from the closet and starts the shower, adjusting the temp to get it nice and hot —  just the way you like it — before the two of you step in.

The water almost instantly pools to a rusted color by your feet as it hits your body. Tyler opens his mouth allowing the water from the shower to fill it before spitting it back out, ridding his taste buds of the copper taste. You watch as Tyler applies soap to the pads of his fingers and scrubs around his lips and chin, then tightly closes his eyes, letting the spray of water wash away the blood-tinged bubbles. When he’s finished he tends to you: carefully patting the dried blood from your swollen lip with a wet washcloth and cleaning the black paint and cut on your neck.

“You sure you wanted this, Babygirl? I don’t want you covering for Blurry,” he asks, moving the cloth to your wash hip then between your thighs, the light friction leaving you wanting more.

“I’m sure,” you smile.

“Even though you say that I can’t help but want to kiss every mark and every cut, like he hurt you,” Tyler states as he rinses the soap from your hip.

“Well, what’s stopping you?” you smirk.

Without another word Tyler softly takes your face in his hands and gently kisses the side of mouth where you lip had been split, then moves his mouth down to your neck, placing a dainty kiss to the wound just above your clavicle. With his hands resting on your waist for balance, he squats down to kiss your hip and you can’t help but let out a small moan.

“You know, I’m feeling kinda sore today too,” you say suggestively, strumming his hair.

“Is that so?” he smiles, gazing up at you and causing you to suck your bottom lip between your teeth. He immediately delves his tongue between your folds, licking one long, exaggerated stripe before pausing. “Blurry might like the taste of blood, but I think this tastes much better,” he grins before diving back in for more as the shower rains down, slicking his hair to his forehead.

“Oh... God...Tyler!” you whine, threading both your hands through his wet hair, holding him right where you want him. If there was one thing Tyler was good at, it was definitely eating you out, especially considering Blurry never did. He was always more wrapped up in his own needs.

Tyler, as always, is mindful of detail, giving every part of your pussy the attention it deserves. When he’s not tonguing over your clit, he’s sucking on your lips or lapping at the wetness secreting from your entrance as your arousal builds in your abdomen.

“Need… to feel you... inside... please!” you beg, growing closer to release.

He stands up, slowly tugging his already erect cock and begins teasing the head over your clit. You quickly throw your arms around his neck and raise one leg, wrapping it around his waist allowing him to guide his length into you.

Once fully inside you, he grips your opposite leg and helps you wrap it around him as well. He promptly moves both hands to your backside to support you and pins you to the shower wall with hips. His hips piston and grind into you as your wet bodies slide against each other under the falling water.

“God I love you,” you whine, sliding your hands from the nape of his neck to his back and pulling him closer, your breast pressed firmly to his chest and chin digging into his shoulder. You can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of him and his intoxicating kisses he’s planting at the base of your neck.

“I love you too,” he breathes heavily. “Look at me.”

You lift your head from his shoulder, meeting his eyes. Tyler softly connects you mouths, water dripping from his lush lower lip. You kiss him back, sliding your tongue along his puckered lips, gathering the droplet on your tongue before pushing it into his mouth and moaning into the kiss: the sound accompanying that of colliding wet flesh.

“You... uhh… mmm... you close?” Tyler moans, hovering on edge.

“Mmmm... yeah,”

“C-can I try something?” Tyler asks shyly.

“Anything… anything you want baby,” you answer, intrigued.

Tyler pins you harder against the wall, holding you in place as he removes one hand from your backside and oh so gently places it on your neck, careful to avoid where Blurry cut you. There’s barely any pressure behind his hold, but the feeling of Tyler taking ownership of you in a way he never has and his mere willingness to even try this is enough to send you over the edge.

“Oh, fuck, Tyler!” you shout, your orgasm washing over you so profoundly that your legs shake and weaken, slipping from their place around Tyler's waist. Tyler tries his best to keep you up as he finishes inside you.

“Shit, if you’re gonna cum like that every time, maybe I can get into this rough stuff a little.” Tyler huffs out of breath, returning you to your feet. “It was hard to tell because we’re in the shower, but I’m pretty sure you squirt.”


End file.
